OPOSSUM HOLLER TAROT 2

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OPOSSUM HOLLER TAROT 599 MANY THANKS TO:Duane Locke,C’atie Bateman,Harding Stedler'LB AND THE OPOSSUM
IN SEARCH OF DAPHNE
Duane Locke
I listened in Brazil to the high-pitched voices
Of pines trying to find a tree that once was Daphne.
It was a toy sailboat leaning on a green lake
That made me think I should listen to
The contralto voices of oaks in some secluded place.
To find the tree that once was Daphne
Should I like Marco Polo travel to China,
Listen to the voices of willows and Chinaberry trees.
Perhaps, a dark-haired girl with swirling trees
Embodied in black on a green silk kimono
Could tell me in what direction to go to find Daphne.
Perhaps, I should visit the land where a wooden horse
Rots half buried in white shore land to find Daphne.
She might now be a petrified tree that stands as stone
Next to a monastery where old men renounce the old world.
I could go to jungles where panthers with their black bodies
Blot out the moon and its reflected light, make all trees dark.
Perhaps Java, or should it be some place Japanese.
I could see if you Daphne were a cherry tree

DAPHNE, I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU
Duane Locke
Daphne, ever since you refused Apollo,
Turned your self into tree, I have been
In love with you.. I love you for the reason
You refused Apollo. I'm also in love
With the golden twists that were once your hair.
You refused Apollo, the rationalist with
Commonplace taste, because he wanted
To order your disordered, disheveled hair.
You also refused your grandfather
Who wanted grand-children so he
Could shine and stumble at family reunions.
You told Apollo you did not want children,
For every child that is born becomes a destroyer
Of the earth and its wonders. Anyway,
You told Apollo, a man incapable of love,
That two people could love intensely
Without bringing a third party into the world
To distract from the love of two.
I loved you, Daphne, and I shall search
The world until I find the tree that is you,
And with the magic of my poetic words,
Turn you, tree, back into a girl with golden twists for hair.

DAPHNE, AM EMPTY ROOF
Duane Locke
Acorns falling on a tin roof
Makes sounds like the sounds
Of the feet of spinning pigeons
Who spin because they love,
But no acorns fall on my roof,
No pigeons spin on my roof.
There are no oaks near my house
In this barren neighborhood.
So Daphne, there is no tree
That could be you in this desolate place.
I must find you, Daphne,
I must have you, Daphne,
I must love you, Daphne.
I listen, I hope, I dream
But there are no sounds
On my tin roof.

OH DAPNE, I WAS HOPING YOU WERE THIS FIG TREE
Duane Locke
Figs have the shape of lutes.
When a fig is seen hanging on a twig
A fig plays fig-lute music.
I gaze upon this fruit,
Sending out a melody
Composed by John Dowland.
All fig trees send out Renaissance music,
But in spite of the beautiful sounds
That come from this tree,
This tree is not you, Daphne.
As much as I love fig-lute music,
I love you even more.
I want you, Daphne, even if
I have to travel to every forest
On this earth to find the tree
That is you, Daphne.

A TREE IN THE MIDDLE OF A RIVER
Duane Locke
There was a tree in the middle of a river.
It was a willow.
Goldfinches would come and perch during winter,
Sing the plaintive notes goldfinches sing in winter.
I talked and talked to this lovely willow,
But this willow was not the tree you are Daphne,
Daphne, this tree wasn't you. Daphne, it wasn't you.
Daphne, I want you, I want you more than I have ever
Wanted anyone. I want you who has golden twists for hair,
But I cannot find you, Daphne. Where are you, ,Daphne?
Daphne, my darling, my beloved, this willow was beautiful,
But it was cut down so a bridge could be built over the Hillsborough River.
Has some politician cut you down and killed you, Daphne?
I must find the tree that is you, so with the magic of my words
I can turn you back into a girl who has golden twists for hair.

CLOCKS THAT LIE lb2001 surrounded by police and clocks that lie counterculture heros surrender or die in a blaze of glory the men that brought you what the moral majority says no to thus the profit Scorned
C’atie Bateman
Dysfunction
commonly misused
Simply misunderstood
Thrives on chaos
Chokes on kindness
Cuts like a knife
Burns like fire
Abnormal, real
Lost innocence
Harsh realities
Hope diminished
Latch key to hell
Dreams turned to trash
Ridiculed, humiliated, harassed, and hated
Scorned
Numb C’atie Bateman
My mind is numb
A pain fills my heart
You’ve seen her;
I can see it in your eyes
You think I can’t tell, so you try to cover it with lies
I see right through you
Lying doesn’t help
Pushing me away
Tell me you love me
Stay with me tonight
Don’t leave for her
She won’t love you like I do
She’s sporadic, I’m forever
I love you, she can’t
Love me!
I’ve seen that look in your eyes . . .
Ignored C’atie Bateman
You look at me differently
Something has changed
An uncaring hatred is in your glare
I touch you and shiver
Emotionless you walk away
Distance grows between us
Few words are said
You don’t want to touch me, that is painfully obvious
Silently, I beg for you
It’s in my eyes, yet you leave me behind

A second thought never enters your mind as you close me out
No longer needed, it eats at my sanity like cancer
Irrational thoughts flood my mind
I scream to release the unbearable pain in my soul
Ice replaces your blood, you deliberately ignore me
One last tear falls
I am consumed with a pain unlike anything before
A knife in my heart, A disease eating away at my body
Reality takes the first train out of my brain
There is no right or wrong anymore, only pain
Selfish, I never enter your mind
You are your only concern now
I search for any way to make you suffer
A razor blade you left behind, resting on the counter
Still dirty, perfect!
Slowly I slice my left wrist
The pain is excruciating and yet comforting
Blood pours all over my naked body
Warm, It feels nice
I smear a message in blood on the wall for you
ALL YOUR FAULT!

Ignoring my cries, you laugh at my pain
Silently I stare, begging you to open the door
Nothing happens
My tear-streaked face smeared with blood
A crimson ring surrounds my feet
I notice the razor blade still in my hand
With the last of my strength, I slowly slice my right wrist
Laughing, psychoticly
I lay on the blood-soaked carpet and die
You never came
Words C’atie Bateman
Words burn worse than a flame!
Why did you hurt me?
Why don’t you see
The things you’re doing are killing me?
I love you but let you leave
Now it’s me you deceive.
You took advantage of my love by taking my heart away
You took advantage of my heart and now you’re going to pay
My soul, you stole
My heart, you cut
My mind, you fucked
Our love is gone.
Engrossed in thought, I look at my life yet again
There is only one solution
Drugs can ease my mind, the deadly kind

Rest forever, peace at last
I hope you realize this is all your fault
It’s because my soul is locked in your vault
I gave everything to you and nothing’s left
My mind is fading
Weak ...

C’atie Bateman

EVERY WINDOW A VIDEO SCREEN

--Harding Stedler
The occasional brown-eyed mouse

we left in town.

It was the only varmint there.

Today, we moved you

to the land of critters.

When we arrived with that first load,

waiting on your kitchen window ledge

lay a slimy, sleeping sprawling lizard.

Between armloads of cardboard boxes,

we dodged blue-tailed salamanders

playing tag among the shadows.

Chipmunks darted over the wood pile,

in one side and out the other,

between our fleeting glances.

Raccoons stripped the corn last night,

and deer snatched ripe tomatoes

beneath the moon.

You will not want for entertainment

where your neighbors are two miles distant.

Your windows will be a video screen

and you can pick your show.

STIRRING THE DARKNESS

--Harding Stedler

Night had its own plans

for my darkness,

sleep not among them.

She flipped my light switch on

with bolts of lightning,

hammered my dreams with thunder,

and kept me watching hour hands

inch toward daybreak

till finally I surrendered.

I resentfully turned on lights

and set routine in motion:

breakfast followed by shaving

followed by slipping into pantlegs.

She wanted me to stir the darkness

with hurried footsteps,

wanted me to wade

through shields of black

to find the source of light

and expose the world to sunshine.

She broke the veil of silence

and the sanctity of my sleep.

Lethargically, I press forward

through the brambles of my day.


	OPOSSUM HOLLER TAROT 2



	e-mail jac47425@cs.com for the classified ads OPOSSUM HOLLER TAROT 599 MANY THANKS TO:Duane Locke,C’atie Bateman,Harding Stedler'LB AND THE OPOSSUM IN SEARCH OF DAPHNE Duane Locke I listened in Brazil to the high-pitched voices Of pines trying to find a tree that once was Daphne. It was a toy sailboat leaning on a green lake That made me think I should listen to The contralto voices of oaks in some secluded place. To find the tree that once was Daphne Should I like Marco Polo travel to China, Listen to the voices of willows and Chinaberry trees. Perhaps, a dark-haired girl with swirling trees Embodied in black on a green silk kimono Could tell me in what direction to go to find Daphne. Perhaps, I should visit the land where a wooden horse Rots half buried in white shore land to find Daphne. She might now be a petrified tree that stands as stone Next to a monastery where old men renounce the old world. I could go to jungles where panthers with their black bodies Blot out the moon and its reflected light, make all trees dark. Perhaps Java, or should it be some place Japanese. I could see if you Daphne were a cherry tree DAPHNE, I AM IN LOVE WITH YOU Duane Locke Daphne, ever since you refused Apollo, Turned your self into tree, I have been In love with you.. I love you for the reason You refused Apollo. I'm also in love With the golden twists that were once your hair. You refused Apollo, the rationalist with Commonplace taste, because he wanted To order your disordered, disheveled hair. You also refused your grandfather Who wanted grand-children so he Could shine and stumble at family reunions. You told Apollo you did not want children, For every child that is born becomes a destroyer Of the earth and its wonders. Anyway, You told Apollo, a man incapable of love, That two people could love intensely Without bringing a third party into the world To distract from the love of two. I loved you, Daphne, and I shall search The world until I find the tree that is you, And with the magic of my poetic words, Turn you, tree, back into a girl with golden twists for hair. DAPHNE, AM EMPTY ROOF Duane Locke Acorns falling on a tin roof Makes sounds like the sounds Of the feet of spinning pigeons Who spin because they love, But no acorns fall on my roof, No pigeons spin on my roof. There are no oaks near my house In this barren neighborhood. So Daphne, there is no tree That could be you in this desolate place. I must find you, Daphne, I must have you, Daphne, I must love you, Daphne. I listen, I hope, I dream But there are no sounds On my tin roof. OH DAPNE, I WAS HOPING YOU WERE THIS FIG TREE Duane Locke Figs have the shape of lutes. When a fig is seen hanging on a twig A fig plays fig-lute music. I gaze upon this fruit, Sending out a melody Composed by John Dowland. All fig trees send out Renaissance music, But in spite of the beautiful sounds That come from this tree, This tree is not you, Daphne. As much as I love fig-lute music, I love you even more. I want you, Daphne, even if I have to travel to every forest On this earth to find the tree That is you, Daphne. A TREE IN THE MIDDLE OF A RIVER Duane Locke There was a tree in the middle of a river. It was a willow. Goldfinches would come and perch during winter, Sing the plaintive notes goldfinches sing in winter. I talked and talked to this lovely willow, But this willow was not the tree you are Daphne, Daphne, this tree wasn't you. Daphne, it wasn't you. Daphne, I want you, I want you more than I have ever Wanted anyone. I want you who has golden twists for hair, But I cannot find you, Daphne. Where are you, ,Daphne? Daphne, my darling, my beloved, this willow was beautiful, But it was cut down so a bridge could be built over the Hillsborough River. Has some politician cut you down and killed you, Daphne? I must find the tree that is you, so with the magic of my words I can turn you back into a girl who has golden twists for hair. CLOCKS THAT LIE lb2001 surrounded by police and clocks that lie counterculture heros surrender or die in a blaze of glory the men that brought you what the moral majority says no to thus the profit Scorned C’atie Bateman Dysfunction commonly misused Simply misunderstood Thrives on chaos Chokes on kindness Cuts like a knife Burns like fire Abnormal, real Lost innocence Harsh realities Hope diminished Latch key to hell Dreams turned to trash Ridiculed, humiliated, harassed, and hated Scorned Numb C’atie Bateman My mind is numb A pain fills my heart You’ve seen her; I can see it in your eyes You think I can’t tell, so you try to cover it with lies I see right through you Lying doesn’t help Pushing me away Tell me you love me Stay with me tonight Don’t leave for her She won’t love you like I do She’s sporadic, I’m forever I love you, she can’t Love me! I’ve seen that look in your eyes . . . Ignored C’atie Bateman You look at me differently Something has changed An uncaring hatred is in your glare I touch you and shiver Emotionless you walk away Distance grows between us Few words are said You don’t want to touch me, that is painfully obvious Silently, I beg for you It’s in my eyes, yet you leave me behind A second thought never enters your mind as you close me out No longer needed, it eats at my sanity like cancer Irrational thoughts flood my mind I scream to release the unbearable pain in my soul Ice replaces your blood, you deliberately ignore me One last tear falls I am consumed with a pain unlike anything before A knife in my heart, A disease eating away at my body Reality takes the first train out of my brain There is no right or wrong anymore, only pain Selfish, I never enter your mind You are your only concern now I search for any way to make you suffer A razor blade you left behind, resting on the counter Still dirty, perfect! Slowly I slice my left wrist The pain is excruciating and yet comforting Blood pours all over my naked body Warm, It feels nice I smear a message in blood on the wall for you ALL YOUR FAULT! Ignoring my cries, you laugh at my pain Silently I stare, begging you to open the door Nothing happens My tear-streaked face smeared with blood A crimson ring surrounds my feet I notice the razor blade still in my hand With the last of my strength, I slowly slice my right wrist Laughing, psychoticly I lay on the blood-soaked carpet and die You never came Words C’atie Bateman Words burn worse than a flame! Why did you hurt me? Why don’t you see The things you’re doing are killing me? I love you but let you leave Now it’s me you deceive. You took advantage of my love by taking my heart away You took advantage of my heart and now you’re going to pay My soul, you stole My heart, you cut My mind, you fucked Our love is gone. Engrossed in thought, I look at my life yet again There is only one solution Drugs can ease my mind, the deadly kind Rest forever, peace at last I hope you realize this is all your fault It’s because my soul is locked in your vault I gave everything to you and nothing’s left My mind is fading Weak ... C’atie Bateman EVERY WINDOW A VIDEO SCREEN --Harding Stedler The occasional brown-eyed mouse we left in town. It was the only varmint there. Today, we moved you to the land of critters. When we arrived with that first load, waiting on your kitchen window ledge lay a slimy, sleeping sprawling lizard. Between armloads of cardboard boxes, we dodged blue-tailed salamanders playing tag among the shadows. Chipmunks darted over the wood pile, in one side and out the other, between our fleeting glances. Raccoons stripped the corn last night, and deer snatched ripe tomatoes beneath the moon. You will not want for entertainment where your neighbors are two miles distant. Your windows will be a video screen and you can pick your show. STIRRING THE DARKNESS --Harding Stedler Night had its own plans for my darkness, sleep not among them. She flipped my light switch on with bolts of lightning, hammered my dreams with thunder, and kept me watching hour hands inch toward daybreak till finally I surrendered. I resentfully turned on lights and set routine in motion: breakfast followed by shaving followed by slipping into pantlegs. She wanted me to stir the darkness with hurried footsteps, wanted me to wade through shields of black to find the source of light and expose the world to sunshine. She broke the veil of silence and the sanctity of my sleep. Lethargically, I press forward through the brambles of my day.

	we use a variety of workThe snail-mail address is Larry Blazek 5094n co rd 750 e Orleans,IN 47452, a ssae must be included with snailmail. The Opossum nasyguy48@cs.com

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